Symbiosis
by Isolith
Summary: Carpooling was an effective way of getting to work. It was logical; he practically lived 10 minutes from her. It saved petrol and spared the environment. But it was quickly turning into so much more than merely driving to work together. They were sharing too much space now. It was dangerous. Sharon/Andy


**Symbiosis**

A/N: Set somewhere in late season 2 MC, I reckon - def later than season 1. Hehe. Hope you enjoy.

**-o-**

They were sharing too much space; Sharon suddenly realized one morning as she jogged out of her apartment, balancing two coffees, a folder with files and her purse. Balancing everything in one hand she opened the car door and breathed a sigh of relief when she managed this without spilling coffee all over herself. She was running just a tiny bit late; Rusty had been badgering her all morning about which clothes to wear to school – there was a girl he liked in his history class, not that he would admit to it – and her early morning run had taken slightly longer than usual since she had stopped and talked with a neighbor. That and her long shower, she amended.

The car was warm and Andy Flynn greeted her with a smile, latching onto a cup of coffee with gusto, swallowing down a large amount before she could put her seatbelt on. Her lips turned upwards; he sometimes seemed like an overgrown lanky kid in his car; all limbs, long body and cheeky grin filling out the space. She sometimes found herself with a strange yearning to ruffle his silver hair. Luckily she caught herself before she embarrassed herself.

His scent was the first thing that hit her; it was manly and suddenly so familiar to her. They were sharing too much space; so much in fact that his presence was now a comfortable warmth that greeted her in the mornings. His scent; it was not overpowering per se. It lay like a subtle layer, almost unnoticeable. But really there was not a lot of space in a car, she mused – and his scent slipped under her skin. It clung to her and she found she liked it. She found herself lounging in it; letting it flow through her.

Yes; they were sharing too much space. It was overwhelming her.

"_Morning Captain,_" he greeted her officially as his lips left the coffee cup. He put the cup down in a holder next to her own coffee cup and started the car.

"_Good morning Lieutenant,_" she replied, righting the seat belt and flipping down the the overhead mirror to look at her lipstick, "_I'm sorry about running late._" She had put in on in a hurry and had yet to actually make sure it wasn't all over her face. Thankfully, her lips were shaded in a perfect red.

The car made a turn to the right, cruising slowly into traffic.

"_It's fine. Rusty texted, saying you were – erm – behind schedule,_" he faltered a bit and she watched out of the corner of her eye how his mouth turned crooked in a smile.

"_Mm-hmm,_" she hummed sarcastically, "_did he happen to mention why I was running behind?_"

This time he let out a laugh, turning to give her a look before his eyes were once again on the road, "_Something about someone being difficult, Captain_"

She rolled her eyes, reached for her cup of coffee.

Their hands collided. It was not a hard or abruptly collision. Their hands simply met each other, slid along the skin of fingers and grasped their own respective cup of coffee. It was becoming a familiar routine; another indicator that she was sharing too much space with him. Why else would she feel untroubled by this? Why else would his fingers touching hers seem like the most natural thing in existence? It tingled, sure – but that surge of surprised electricity that had struck her the first time it happened; it was gone. Now it was like a ritual of two people sharing too much space.

She took a sip of her own coffee, the warm and bitter taste filing her with content. She gave a little hum.

"_This that new blend you were talking about?_" he indicated the coffee as he lifted the cup to his lips.

"_Yes, Indonesian beans. You should smell them just after I've grinded them,_" she smiled, "_The aroma, it's almost heavenly._"

He gave a grunt, turning his head to look back over his shoulder before he turned, swerved to the freeway. He growled and grunted a lot, she had noticed. Not in an indifferent or angry way; no it reminded her of all her own quirky little hums. She found she liked all the small noises that would escape him; they slid across her skin effortlessly and made her tingle. She had been so surprised the first time he had given an affirmative grunt, words too comprehensive as he navigated traffic. The vibration of his noise had shot straight through her skin, straight through to her core down between her legs. She had blushed furiously and had been almost silent the rest of the car ride, her legs vehemently pressed together. Now she enjoyed the tingle of arousal, the way his voice caressed her. Another sign, she mused, of sharing too much space.

"_I'll arrive early tomorrow, and you can grind and brew it for me,_" he said, the tone almost flirty. Any other person uttering those words and she would feel it was very presumptuous of them. It just seemed natural with him however, why she had indirectly invited him herself hadn't she?

She hummed affirmatively, took another sip of her coffee and opened her folder, balancing all the files on her thighs. Things were progressing slowly at work; she wondered what made all the murderers suddenly take a collective vacation. They had not caught a case in the last week. So instead they were looking into cold cases and updating paperwork. She became absorbed in reading an old case of a murdered cop and a teenage boy when all of a sudden something new happened.

His hand was suddenly on her knee, tapping lightly to get her attention. She looked up from her files.

"_Have you had breakfast yet?_"

She shook her head, words lost in her mind. His hand was still on her skin, warm and big.

"_How about getting pancakes? We will drive right past this little place; we can get enough for the rest of the team as well_"

"_Sounds delicious; I'm actually quite hungry now you mention it_," she replied, her voice low and almost sultry. It reacted to his hand on her knee, she surmised. He gave her a smile, removed his hand and put it back on the steering wheel, making a turn.

Was this something that would carry on? A new part to their little daily ride. Would he now henceforth touch her knee when he wanted her attention? Her skin felt cold now, no warmth from his hand. Her knee tingled while she half twitched in her seat. Things were progressing in such a slow manner, she surmised, and that was why she now all of a sudden felt surprised by how much their little car rides in the mornings had affected them. No subordinates were supposed to touch her like that. No subordinate was supposed to make her feel like this, all tingly and thrumming with a small fire of arousal. It was just not right.

But then again, she did not share this much space with her other detectives.

"_I think I can hear your stomach growling, Captain,'_" he teased her, his voice light.

She grinned, "_You sure it isn't yours, Lieutenant?_"

"_Mine would not make such a delicate little noise, nope, definitely yours_"

They grinned at each other.

They stopped at the take-away breakfast place; she narrowed her eyes as she looked out the window shield; it looked busy.

"_Don't worry, I know the owner. I'll be but a minute,"_ Andy said as he saw her look. He snapped his seat belt off, leaned across her, suddenly very much closer, as he opened the glove department and found his purse. She barely had time to contemplate the heat of him so close, his scent so intense before he was out the door. His presence lingered in the car though, and she felt an unsteady breath leave her lips as she adjusted her seat belt and fiddled with the corners of paper in the files on her lap.

What would he do next? Let his hand linger on her knee; let it settle unto her thigh as he drove. She shivered at the thought, feeling hot and twitchy. Oh god, if his hand next time landed on her thigh she would whimper out loud and close her eyes. Maybe that was the next step of sharing too much space with him; his hand warm on her thigh, his thumb sliding up and down in an unconscious trace. She wouldn't mind. Somehow she thought he would not mind either. The regulations and rules would mind though, she reproached but she pushed it away.

Maybe she would try it herself next; tap his thigh to get his attention. She smiled; wondering whether he would jump slightly in his seat, drive unsteadily or send her that cheeky grin she had come to appreciate with a fondness she had not anticipated.

Andy was back in record time, the smell of fresh pancakes and something sugary greeting her as he opened the door. He dumped three brown bags unto her lap, slammed the door and started the engine. His hand was on her backseat, close to her, as he looked back and navigated backing out of the parking space.

The smell was tantalizing and she found herself sniffing just a little too loudly at the wafting air from the bags.

"_Hey_," he poked her nose, "_there's a container of fruit in one of them. You can eat it now_"

She smiled, grateful – opened the bags and quickly found her fruit.

She hummed as she ate mango and oranges, wondering how many new little things he was going to introduce to her today. First the knee-touching and now the nose-poking – not to forget feeding her delicious fruit, she amended.

She felt content, however.

**-o-**

They were sharing too much space, Sharon observed. They were sharing what little space that was between them; and in a car that was not much. It was even less at night when it was dark outside and they were on their way back from work. Somehow the dark night outside made the space inside the car more intimate, less spacious. There were no coffee cups in the holder but she brushed his fingers everytime she wanted to change the radio station, turn the volume down – or up. He tapped her thigh a number of times; she was looking old case files up on her laptop – reading arrest reports and fitness evaluations. She surmised that he tried to touch her knee but the darkness and his eyes trained on the road made his fingers land higher up instead. He was tapping her thigh; a little detail from their cold case he wanted her to look up.

Halfway home and just before hitting the worst traffic, he bought her a smoothie – she had complained of hunger and traffic; it would be ages before she would be home. She sipped from the straw – texted Rusty to let him know she was on the way home.

She let him taste the strawberry elderberry mash enjoying watching him complain about the sweetness. She giggled; somehow driving home was always different than driving to work. It was a different atmosphere, she mused.

She imagined she could taste his lips when she sipped her smoothie again.

They ended up listening to jazz all the way home, alternating between sipping the sweet smoothie. She imagined they were both too tired to really talk about anything definite or meaningful; instead he would occasionally make a comment and she would hum.

She poked his shoulder; he gave her sideway looks almost reminiscent of flirting. They smiled a lot.

Sharing this little space; it was luring her into this bubble where all of existence was in the car. It was both surreal and somewhat tangible.

Rusty texted her back; he had made soup. She smiled inwardly; his cooking was superb – better than her own half-hearted attempts. She suddenly felt a pang of something in her chest. He was such a sweet kid, really; he felt like her own. She found herself wanting to protect him fiercely, make sure his life would turn out alright now.

"_Lieutenant?_"

He grunted.

"_Would you mind hanging out with Rusty some time?_" she paused and then explained, "_He seems to be doing alright. But I think maybe being with another male would be beneficiary for him; someone who won't beat him up or you know. A little positive male influence for once_"

"_Sure thing,_" he replied and she caught his eyes briefly. They were warm. "_I wouldn't mind. I can take him to a ball game – Provenza will probably tag along. Or I can ask Rusty what he would like to do?_"

She smiled, "_Thank you_," she paused; it seemed positively idiotic to be calling him lieutenant all the time, "_Thank you Andy_," she amended.

"_You're welcome, Sharon,_" he replied back and her name on his lips, in his voice; it was both strange and familiar. It felt good. It was beyond stupid to reverently be calling each other by rank in the car; they were sharing too much space to not call each other by their given names, she surmised. She liked the way he said her name; it seemed so different.

Would this mean that from now on there would be no more 'lieutenant' or 'captain' uttered in their daily morning and evening rides? Would they now only be Andy and Sharon – it somehow seemed daunting. She knew it was leading them down a troubled road – a road they should most likely not go down. But it felt good.

The car slowed down and she recognized her neighborhood.

"_Thank you for the smoothie, Andy,_" she told him with a smile when the car stopped, his name rolling of her lips without effort as she tried packing all of her things into her arms.

"_You're welcome,_" he replied.

Then he leaned across and gave her a chaste kiss on her cheek, followed by a "_Goodnight_"

She smiled and said "_Goodnight_" to him.

As she walked to her front door her cheek kept tingling. This was definitely new; so new it overrode him calling her by her name. This was not only sharing space; it was embracing their shared space. Halfway she turned around and gave him a little wave as he drove out of her driveway.

She would not mind a little goodnight kiss on her cheek; there was nothing wrong with that. It was merely a platonic way of saying goodnight, she tried to convince herself. The problem however; she did not feel the slightest twinge of platonic comfort. She felt beyond friendly.

She wondered what would happen next; would that little peck on her cheek gradually become something else? She grinned to herself.

**-o-**

When you shared too much space with a person you instantly noticed when that space was being invaded by another person, Sharon mused. Provenza was grumbling about his flat tire in the back and all she could think about was restraining herself. All of a sudden she felt extra conscious of her behavior, of Andy's behavior and how it might look to outsiders.

She was sitting rigidly in her seat, legs pressed together and her arms crossed. She might as well have been mute; she was silent all the way to work.

The ride consisted of Provenza grumbling – Andy giving the mandatory grunt when he paused in his grumblings. She watched Andy out of the corner of her eye; she caught his eyes a couple of times. She caught his hand halfway on its way to her thigh – always quickly snapping back to his own side when he realized what he was doing.

This little space inside a car was not meant for more than just two people, she thought. Sharing this much space with him was not meant to include others.

She sighed; hoping Provenza would have his car fixed with swiftness.

**-o-**

His mouth was on hers; his lips demanding and impatient – but soft and pliant. She felt caught in-between needing to devour his lips while simultaneously feeling a need to go slow as well.

It was dark outside and the car was holding outside her apartment complex. The familiar and predictable little peck on her cheek had turned out to lead to a whole new aspect of their nightly goodnight now. She remembered how she had fallen into a false sense of security; it was just a little peck on her cheek. It did not mean anything more significant. But one evening; his lips had ended up on hers instead. She was not sure if she had moved her head differently or if he had changed his direction; but suddenly it was a brief kiss on the lips and not a brief kiss on her cheek. She had quickly left the car, still giving him a wave and a high-pitched '_goodnight_'.

Sharing all this space with him; it was now dangerous. She liked it despite feeling a need to distance herself from it. The following night she had kissed his cheek, however. And the night after he had kissed her lips again – briefly, almost like a ghost. It did not feel that much different from the peck on her cheek, she tried to convince herself. Why, it was practically the same thing.

Maybe this whole line of reasoning was why a brief peck on her lips turned into full-blown snogging, she surmised. Why, it was absurd. But she did not mind. They were sharing this much space; it seemed natural for it to progress.

She kissed him back; and suddenly she found her hand attached to his neck, curled into his hair and she drew him closer. That was new; she calculated. His hand tangled in her hair as well; and she thought it seemed natural as well.

She hummed into his lips and felt his answering little grunt. They were sharing too much space; and it seemed beyond logic not to really share it, she mused. Or at least that is what she told herself so she wouldn't feel guilty about kissing a subordinate.

She liked the feel of his lips against hers; they seemed to fit and latched onto hers with something she could not quite comprehend. But it made her feel full of a soft, light feeling. It made her dizzy. She wondered what would happen next; somehow going from barely touching and glances and smiles to this; it seemed natural now, looking back. But; kissing – it was a given it would evolve as well.

She wondered when it would feel natural to invite him in; to undress him. She shuddered at the thought, quasi anxious and semi excited at the prospect.

His hand landed on her thigh; higher up than usual – a caress that slid under her skirt.

Yes; this was already beyond merely kissing.

She did not mind.

**-o-**

Sharing too much space meant sharing body heat, she surmised. Naked body heat. Sharing space with him apparently meant inviting him into her bed one evening. Why it was Friday; there was no work tomorrow unless they caught a murder. Rusty was having a sleepover at a friend's house. Why, her apartment was empty and dark. It seemed natural to invite him in – it seemed stupid when they would otherwise just end up half naked in his car anyway, she surmised.

His hand had slipped into hers as they had locked his car and walked to her door. It was new as well; it enveloped her in a strong and warm hold. Pushing her up against the wall once they were inside her apartment; new as well.

Stumbling into her dark bedroom trying to absorb each other and undress at the same time; new. His kiss so overwhelming, so consuming; it felt new as well. His hands on bare skin; new. The feel of his muscles quivering when her fingers slipped under his shirt; new.

Oh god; his leg between hers, his thigh warm and solid against her center; so new.

She liked sharing her space with him.

This was insane. But it had been building up for the last year or so, she mused. It had been inevitable, somehow. She had known it would someday end in this.

It would end with both of them naked and panting; finally sharing just enough space.

**-o-**


End file.
